My Dear
by Laura Schiller
Summary: A collection of Charlotte/Collins vignettes. Because when you marry someone knowing only the worst of him, you have a lifetime left to discover the rest.
1. My Dear

My Dear

By Laura Schiller

Based on _Pride and Prejudice_ by Jane Austen

When Charlotte Lucas married the Rev. William Collins, she did it to escape the threat of spinsterhood and to have a home and children of her own. The man himself barely entered into her plans, except as a sort of necessary evil; therefore, she was all the more surprised when she actually began to like him.

She was not sure how it began. Perhaps it was the moment she first peered through the white lace curtains in her parlor to watch Mr. Collins in his garden; he was whistling a hymn as he knelt in the dirt, pulling weeds with every appearance of enjoying himself. His face was shaded by a big, floppy straw hat and his jacket was off, flung carelessly across a fence post. He looked relaxed for once, instead of always trying to be dignified and looking as if he had swallowed his walking stick. It made her smile.

She looked around at her parlor, a comfortable little room with cream-colored wallpaper, a plump sofa and armchairs to curl up in, an upright pianoforte, and a bookshelf stocked with all her old favorites. Her sanctuary; a quiet place just for herself. Mr. Collins had rarely set foot in the room after she had pronounced it 'for her own particular use'; Charlotte wondered if he avoided her on purpose, wanting to make things easier for her, knowing that she did not care for him as a wife should. She found him annoying; who wouldn't? She encouraged him to spend time out in the garden just so he wouldn't get in her way. She had hinted as much to Lizzie during her last visit, and Lizzie had smiled at her wryly in understanding.

However, it was quiet in Hunsford Parsonage. Very quiet. After three months, Charlotte didn't find it quite as restful anymore. She had gotten so used to Mr. Collins rattling on about village gossip, the garden, the livestock, and the De Bourghs, that the house began to feel almost lonely without him.

Charlotte dropped the curtain, left her parlor, and went to look for an extra pair of work gloves and a wide-brimmed bonnet. Once she had found both, she stepped out into the June sunshine of her garden.

"May I join you?" she asked.

Her husband looked up and smiled at her – a real, sunny, sponteneous smile that was nothing like the one he put on for Lady Catherine.

"Why, certainly!" he said. "My dear Charlotte, nothing would give me greater pleasure than for you to share this beautiful day with me."

He really must be lonely sometimes, she thought, with a sudden stab of sympathy; how many friends did he really have? No wonder he was always talking, always eager to please; it was high time somebody showed him he was a human being and not a doormat.

Charlotte smiled back as she knelt down next to him.


	2. Solace

Solace

By Laura Schiller

Based on _Pride and Prejudice _by Jane Austen

_An empty wine bottle smashed against the wall, scattering sharp bits of glass around the room. A little boy ducked, covering his head with his hands._

"_I'm sorry, I'm sorry!" he cried. "I didn't mean it, Father, please – " _

_The floor shook in front of him as a pair of scuffed leather boots advanced. The light from the candle was blocked by an enormous shadow, reeking of stale sweat and alcohol, reaching out its hands …_

"_No!"_

William Collins' eyes flew open. Someone's hands _were_ holding him down, and someone's breath was in his face, but they smelled like soap and linen instead of wine, and pushing them away was far too easy. A female voice gasped, and William remembered where he was: in his own bed at Hunsford Parsonage.

"Charlotte?"

"Yes," she said. "I'm here.."

"Did I hurt you? I'm sorry! I never meant - "

"Shh, all is well," she whispered, stroking his hair with a small, warm hand. "Do not be afraid, William. I am here."

She had never called him William before. She had never touched him like this either.

"Charlotte … "

He pulled her close and buried his face in her soft hair, lost for words, lost in her. He had never asked to be loved by his wife, knowing quite well that she had married him for convenience; but just to to have her here, in his house and in his bed, made him happier than all his conventional phrases could express. Just to be touched and held, after so many years of waking up alone in the dark, was a miracle to him.

He had spent his whole life talking, but it was through silent touch that he finally began to communicate.


	3. Song of Songs

Song of Songs

By Laura Schiller

Based on _Pride and Prejudice_ by Jane Austen

It began with the Bible. The Song of Solomon, to be exact.

Charlotte was used to hearing Mr. Collins' low voice from his study in the evenings, as he practiced his sermons or his gospel reading of the week, and she usually ignored it as she sat in her own parlor, sewing, knitting or writing letters to her family and Lizzie. One evening, however, she had cracked a few windows open due to the heat of the day, and the summer breeze wafting through thr house carried certain phrases to her ear which piqued her curiosity.

_A bundle of myrrh is my well-beloved unto me; he shall lie all night between my breasts … _"

Charlotte 's knitting needles shook as she giggled silently, almost dropping a stitch. Surely he wasn't going to read _that _to the congregation! Was it even from the Bible?

"_Behold, thou art fair, my love, behold, thou art fair. Thou hast dove's eyes … "_

She had often privately thought that reading aloud was one of Mr. Collins' greatest gifts; it was unfortunate that he chose to waste it on such works as Fordyce's _Sermons._ He had a way of reading one word at a time, slowly and deliberately, as if tasting them for their particular flavor; a love of the written word was something they had in common. She had never heard him reading anything like _this_ before.

Carefully, Charlotte set aside her knitting and approached the door to the study, which was slightly ajar. She peeked through it and yes, there was her husband, small and plain as ever, pacing around the room with his battered old Bible in one hand and a cup of tea in the other. Hardly a romantic picture in contrast with the words, and yet …

"_I sat down under his shadow with great delight, and his fruit was sweet to my taste. He brought me to the banqueting house and his banner over me was love."_

That called up images of a delighted Mr. Collins showing her his apple trees, bringing armfuls of pink blossoms into the house for her to put in vases, and the promises of fresh apple pie and cider to come in the autumn. 'His banner over me' – she had heard that before in a religious context, but at the moment it reminded her of nothing so much as entering Lady Catherine's drawing room arm-in-arm, all but announcing to the world: _behold, we are husband and wife! We have achieved marriage in spite of unfavorable odds, and we are determined to be happy._

Mr. Collins smiled over that last phrase, his eyes half-closed, then turned to admire the pink-and-golden light of the sunset streaming through the window.

"How does it continue, Mr. Collins?" asked Charlotte, putting her head around the door.

He jumped and whirled around, shutting the book with one finger inside as a bookmark.

"Good heavens, Charlotte! Er – have you been listening to that – all this time?"

She could see the his ears turning pink with embarrassment. It was rather endearing, truth be told.

"Yes, I have," she admitted. "I rather like it. Is it the Song of Solomon?"

"Yes, indeed. An allegorical portrayal of the – er – spiritual union between Christ and His church."

"And what a loving union it is," said Charlotte, just to make her husband blush some more. "May I?"

She took the book out of his hand and began to read aloud herself.

"_Stay me with flagons, comfort me with apples, for I am sick of love … His left hand is under my head … and his right hand … doth embrace me." _She looked up, finding it was her turn to blush, and that Mr. Collins had recovered enough from his embarrassment to be looking at her with a definite spark in his blue eyes.

"_The voice of my beloved! Behold, he cometh - "_ But that was as far as Charlotte got, as Mr. Collins interrupted her with an enthusiastic kiss.

**Author's Note:** This oneshot was inspired by a scene from the film _Keeping Mum_, in which reading the Song of Solomon makes Rowan Atkinson (!) sound incredibly hot.

See the clip on YouTube: .com/watch?v=8jwBrDkV5XU


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